


count the days

by ftera



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftera/pseuds/ftera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course he would come home, he tells himself. It just takes time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	count the days

**Author's Note:**

> [Day 9](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com/post/111907506797/britin-30-day-challenge): [A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173387) by John Donne

_"I've missed you, " he whispers._

_Brian muses his hand through Justin's hair. "Doesn't everyone?" he questions, but there isn't a harsh tone added to it._

_"Some more than others," Justin presses into Brian's neck, a smile spreading over his lips._

_Fingers dig into his side and Justin gasps, struggling to escape Brian's scrutiny. "Really? Like who?" Warmth spreads through Justin's stomach in the face of Brian's contagious grin._

_"Oh, you know. Just the usual fans," Justin teases, reaching up to loosely wrap his arms around Brian's neck._

_Sweaty but no longer exhausted, they lost caught in each other again._

 

 

* * *

"You coming out tonight?" Michael asks from the loft door.

Two months, thirteen days, twenty-two hours, seventeen minutes. (He's not keeping score.)

Brian glances around the room and then at the takeout Thai food in front of him. "I think I'm good for tonight," he says, the words tasting weird on his tongue. "But you and the boys have fun without me, if you can."

Michael frowns but lets it go, closing the door with a soft exhale behind him.

 

 

* * *

_"You never stay."_

_Justin's lips go tight and he stares down at the bed, trying to ignore the weight of Brian's eyes on him._ Fuck, _he thinks. He told himself he wasn't going to say it but he's never been good at pillow talk and it's been nagging him for weeks, anyway._

_"I'm trying to help you transition," Brian brushes it off._

By making me want you more?

_It goes unspoken in the air. Brian continues to get dressed and then, hesitantly, kisses Justin. Clutching the blankets closer to him, Justin watches him go._

 

 

* * *

Brian wakes up at six every morning. He showers, sometimes shaves, makes coffee or orders it at the diner, and goes to work. He distracts himself with proposals and designs and companies, and it's easy. After work he goes home and pretends he knows how to cook and then goes to sleep. It's a simple, basic routine, and it's boring as fuck.

He doesn't have the energy anymore to change it. Maybe he's just getting too old for this shit. Maybe it's because what he's really looking for isn't around.

Whatever it is, he's pretty okay with ignoring it, too.

It's been five months, twenty-three days, nineteen hours, and ten minutes. He's fine.

 

 

* * *

_"You look like shit."_

_Justin rolls his eyes, holding the door open wider. "Thanks, Bri. You look as stunning as usual."_

_Brian's hands find his face, cupping his cheeks gently. "You been sleeping okay?" He traces the dark circles under Justin's eyes with his thumbs, and Justin turns away._

_"Just feeling a little homesick lately, is all," he admits, not meeting Brian's gaze. "It's nothing. I'll be over it soon."_

_They sit on the couch and let some old movie play in the background as they swap stories and reminisce. It's the first time Brian stays longer than a night._

 

 

* * *

Nine months, three days, ten hours, forty minutes.

"Brian, you have a visitor." Cynthia's face pops into his office, a wide smile on her face.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Stop looking so grumpy, you'll like this one," she admonishes him before disappearing around the corner.

"What are you doing here?" Brian questions as his "visitor" walks in.

Justin walks up to his desk, putting his hands on it. "New York isn't all it's cracked up to be," he starts, eyes following Brian as he goes back to the papers he was reviewing. "So I decided to get the hell out."

"Why would you do that?"

Justin shrugs. "It's beautiful there, sure, and it's full of inspiration. It wasn't the same. It's not what I wanted."

Pausing, Brian looks up. "And this is what you want?"

"Yes," he says, confident in his answers. "This is exactly what I want."

Nine months, three days, ten hours, forty-three minutes, and he's home.


End file.
